Disclaimer: Not mine. Duh. *sobs*

It was official; Lydia Martin hated Stiles Stilinski.

She hated his perpetually messy hair which always looked like he had rolled out of bed. She hated his eyes- those two shots of liquid gold- which were always alight with faith and conviction. She hated the way he tripped all over the place, never failing to make her laugh. She hated the way he looked at her, like she was the only person he saw. Well the way he used to look at her.

She hated the way he always believed in her and made sure she knew it too, just so that it would make her feel a little better about herself.

Most of all, she hated the way her stomach felt like a nest of butterflies had suddenly erupted in there, every time she was around him.

Though that didn't stop her from imagining herself throttling the life out of him for aggravating her so much.

But maybe this was bound to happen. Because karma was such a supreme bitch (and well Lydia believed so was she herself) that all these feelings came to her in full throttle only when it was too late. Only had she opened her eyes for real when that asshole Stilinski was finally with another.

She should be happy for him, she knows it. He had spent so much of his life pining after her, with her being oblivious of his very existence and now she knows how it feels. Well obviously he isn't oblivious of his existence as she herself was but sometimes she can't help but feel invisible. Not just to him but to everyone. As if with Allison's death, she had faded away in their eyes.

Or maybe it just wasn't that. Maybe it was Malia. In other circumstances Lydia would have liked the girl, been friends with her even. But she couldn't help but feel like the other girl had...replaced her?

The old Lydia Martin would never had thought that. The old Lydia Martin would have snarked something back, tossed her perfect curls and sashayed out, consequences be damned. The old Lydia Martin was a bitch but she was a popular bitch.

Now Lydia knew how much she had depended on her image. And how lonely she felt without it.

All but stomping in her boots, she strode over to her car, flinging the door open with ferocity born of anger, an anger that seemed to be on boiling point quite frequently nowadays. Anger was good though, burning rage that made her shake slightly with a desire to fling things around. Anger was better than what came after, better than the time she spent wrapped up in her blanket with the drowning feeling of not being seen. Out of sight, out of mind, that seemed to be the current chapter of her story. She just hoped in was a short one.

But honestly how dare he! How dare Stiles cancel their plan at the last minute! On her birthday too! Sure he was apologetic and sure he practically repeated his assurance of taking her out another day about a million times but that certainly did not help. All because little Malia had showed up and was adamant in wanting her 'boyfriend' all to herself for the night, oblivious to the anticipation that had festered in Lydia when Stiles had promised 'the best birthday of all birthdays'.

And as she jammed her key into ignition and pulled out of her driveway, Lydia did not really have a destination in mind. She just needed to get out of her room, the room that she seemed to be spending all her time in, and she needed to breathe.

The logical part of her brain was aware that she was making mountains out of molehills and it screamed at her to stop the car as she whizzed past a red light, mentally giving the world the middle finger. But Lydia was so beyond the point of actually caring. And she was so beyond the point of logical reasoning because lets face it, nobody needed Lydia Martin. She could easily be moved down the list of priorities until it was suitable. Hell just drop her into the trashcan of your memory box while you were at it. She'll understand.

Whoops there goes another red traffic light.

Maybe the worst part of this...lets call it rejection, was that it came from Stiles.That sweet, honey eyed boy who looked at her and saw the comets and constellations. Who treated her like Prince Eric treated Ariel. Who was always kind to her. Who literally bought a flat screen tv for her.

Maybe this was all her fault. Oh yes it was karma, proved that, Lydia thought furiously, swiping away at the tears that escaped her eyes. For so long, she hadn't returned his feelings. And why? Because she was scared. Because Lydia had faced many many monsters but had never been more scared than when faced with a decision that made her let people in. She did once, with Jackson. Look how well that turned out. It made her walls shoot up skyward but maybe the one person she wanted in her fortress with her was stuck out. And them maybe he got tired of pounding on the walls, pleading with her to let him in.

She trusted him, oh yes she did. She just didn't trust her own heart. She didn't know at that time whether, if she peeled the band-aid off, it would be healed below. And that had cost her.

Because now, under a new band-aid was a new wound. Newer. Fresher. And god knows when it'll be healed. The thought just brought more tears to her eyes.

So now she allowed the words to come out, that hid in her for so long.

"I," she began, tasting each word, each word bittersweet.

"Love." This word came out like a sob. It was hesitant but it was there and it was actually being said.

"Stiles."

There. The three wretched words were out. And she had given in to the fact that she might never say them again.

Another red light.

A blaring horn.

A flash of light.

The world thrown in a whirlwind.

A strike of pain.

Darkness.

Stiles Stilinski knew what it felt like having the world swiped from beneath your feet.

He remembered the day his mother passed away, how he held her hand until she took her last shuddering breathe. He had sat in the waiting room- after they had taken her away to the morgue- boxed in walls of white, but feeling like he was falling.

Falling through an eternal abyss, through abject darkness with no holds to cling on to.

He had his first panic attack in that waiting room.

Arguing with Malia had already sapped him emotionally, sending his head spinning. They seem to be doing a lot of that lately; arguing that it. He'd feel like something was missing between them and she'd get frustrated that he could not explain it.

"You're still in love with her!" Malia had exploded, her fists clenched by her sides. Watching his face morph into an expression of shock, she continued, not allowing him to interfere. "And don't you dare deny it Stiles! I can see it, you're in love with her and I refuse to fall for someone who will never return my feelings."

"Ma-"

"No," she ground out. "I won't. You did and look what it did to you. She crushed you repeatedly but you brushed yourself off and got up with another smile. Because that's who you are, you're too selfless. And I'm not, I can't do that." She finally looked him straight in the eye, hers slightly watery. He couldn't remember the last time she looked close to tears. "I'm sorry Stiles."

And then she had left, left without saying another word, left despite his protests and gone to god alone knew where. He was worried for her, beyond worried really- where would she go?- but he collapsed onto his bed, holding his head in his hands.

Lydia…he had always been in love with her. But after she got together with Aiden and then Aiden died he had decided to give her space. Space to clear her head and not be forced by others to rush into a hasty decision. And as time passed, he often did wonder that maybe all they were destined to be was friends. Maybe there was nothing more to their relationship. Truth be told, he had decided he would be content with that. Maybe not over joyous, but content because a little bit of Lydia was better than none at all.

He had not expected that phone call from his dad.

One sentence. Said tightly.

"You need to get to the hospital now."

His first thought: Malia. Had something happened to her after she left? No that was absurd, she just walked out. How could she be in the hospital already? Scott? But why would a true alpha need the hospital?

Lydia?

Now he could tell it was her from his dad's voice.

No more thinking. He just ran.

Another waiting room. God he was beginning to detest waiting rooms.

He couldn't sit, he couldn't keep still. He wanted to be in the operating theater, watching over her because fucking damnit, he was supposed to be with her tonight and he failed her and look what happened.

Scott watched him pace, worry in his eyes, not just for the banshee but for his best friend who looked close to another panic attack. Kira was curled up in the chair next to him. Derek leaned against the wall opposite them, staring into space. Hell even Liam, Chris Argent and Isaac- who was in town to visit- were here.

But they could have been invisible for all the attention Stiles paid to them. Words like internal bleeding and cranial trauma revolved in his mind, swimming before his eyes. He tried to imagine being in her place, hit by a truck driver at an traffic light intersection. Oh no, no he didn't want to imagine that. He won't be able to handle that.

"It's all my fault," he whispered softly to himself because goddammit the guilt lathering those words was going to choke him if he didn't shove them out.

Of course, being in a room full of supernatural creatures and one expert hunter with the ears of a bat really proved this to be pointless. All eyes turned to him, heavy with pity but one set flashed with…anger? He couldn't tell and that was a first when it came to reading Scott.

"No," Scott argued. "It's not just your fault. It's all our fault. We've been practically ignoring her and all it took for us to see that was car crash and her almost dying."

Stiles couldn't help but feel worse after that.

"The death pool is over and now we don't have any more excuses- not that we had one in the first place. We look out for each other and from now on that's exactly what we will continue." He looked each of them in the eye. "And I'll be damned if any person in my pack suffers because of my negligence. I'm going to make things right."

She opened her eyes to see what she wanted to the most. Two shots of liquid gold. Didn't she detest those eyes? She couldn't remember.

"Didn't I tell that if you died, I'd go out of my freaking mind?"

She smiled after what felt like years.

AN:/ okay i stuffed up at the ending, I admit it.

But please review and tell me what you think! :)

~Lily